


A Matter of Perspective

by sunshyndaisies (writergirlie)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-19
Updated: 2010-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:36:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writergirlie/pseuds/sunshyndaisies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron and Hermione relate the story of their infamous Yule Brawl to their children, but it seems each one has a slightly different version of the tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Perspective

“Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view...”

\-- Obi-Wan Kenobi, _Return of the Jedi_

 

There was definitely giggling a few doors down.

 

It was muffled and somewhat disguised, and it came and went every few seconds, but nevertheless, there was no mistaking it. Hermione came up on her elbow and strained her ears to listen for it better, and having now shaken off the last vestiges of grogginess, she was more than certain she was hearing what she thought she was hearing.

 

It was the sound of two little girls, all right. Two little girls laughing surreptitiously in the safety of their room when they knew perfectly well that they should be fast asleep by now. Apparently, Rose and Lily must have been unaware that Hermione, whose sharpened hearing had been honed well by parenthood, could hear them even from here.

 

Beside her, though, her husband seemed utterly oblivious to it all.

 

“Ron,” she whispered, nudging him with her shoulder.

 

He didn’t move, only grunting a semi-coherent response that left no doubt whatsoever that he did not appreciate having been roused from sleep.

 

“Wha’?”

 

“Don’t you hear that?”

 

Another pause. Another nudge.

 

“Hear what?”

 

Again, the giggling came. And now talking, too. Hermione couldn’t quite make out the words, but she was sure there was indeed some sort of a conversation taking place over there. She slid up to sitting and pointed in the direction of the girls’ room.

 

“_That_,” she said. “The girls... they’re awake.”

 

It took a few seconds, but finally, Ron rolled over to face her, one eye tentatively opening, then followed by the other, then both squinting momentarily in the glare of the strips of moonlight streaming in through the window. He cocked his head, presumably to listen for the girls’ voices, but after a while--to Hermione’s frustration--he shrugged and said, “I don’t hear anything.”

 

“Ron...”

 

He groaned.

 

“Hermione, come on,” he said. “I’m going to have to wake up again in an hour or so to do the Father Christmas bit--can’t I get in just a bit more sleep before then?”

 

“I’m telling you, they’re awake, Ron. And if they’re awake, you _can’t_ sneak downstairs. They’ll hear you.”

 

“Maybe Harry or Ginny will take care of it.”

 

“Harry and Ginny are at the other end of the hall, remember? They’ll never hear a thing in there. And besides, they’re dead asleep right now.”

 

“Like I should be.”

 

“Very funny.”

 

Ron rarely refused the chance to prolong any sort of debate with her, and so the fact that he was silent for a good number of seconds told Hermione that her words must have resonated with him somehow. After a while, he must have decided to give up on ever sleeping again tonight, because he shifted in bed, eventually getting up altogether.

 

“Where are you going?” Hermione said, squinting up at him.

 

“Well seeing as I’m awake now, I may as well get a head start on everything, don’t you think?”

 

“But what about the girls? What if they hear you and take a peek? Or what if the boys hear you?”

 

A lop-sided grin materialized on his face; Hermione had a feeling he was up to something and wondered whether she was going to like the sound of this.

 

“That’s where you come in, love,” he said.

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“You go in there and distract them, while I play Father Christmas. And then I’m going to Apparate back here, and you...” He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “... are going to let me get some sleep.”

 

She laughed and was about to respond with a cheeky comment, but alas, he vanished from her sight before she had a chance to open her mouth. Begrudgingly, she padded towards the girls’ room, pausing at the door when she heard their laughter hit a crescendo. In spite of everything, she had to smile. She remembered how excited she used to get as a little girl awaiting Christmas; she supposed she couldn’t exactly blame her daughter and niece for staying awake either.

 

They were still engrossed in conversation when Hermione cracked open the door, happily going on about something that she had caught only snippets of (something about a stuffed owl doll that Lily was sure she would be getting this year). She watched them in silence for a while, until it seemed Rose had sensed the presence of another person in the room, and her eyes widened to the size of saucers when spotting her mother.

 

“Mum!!!”

 

“Aunt Hermione!”

 

“Well, hello there,” Hermione said. “Bit late for you two to be up, isn’t it?”

 

* * *

 

“What’re you doing up so late??”

 

“Dad!”

 

Hugo flinched, hand frozen in mid-motion (he looked to have been moments away from cutting into one of the half dozen custard pies that Hermione had baked earlier that afternoon) upon being discovered by Ron in the kitchen. The knife was still poised awkwardly in mid-air, until Hugo finally brought his hand down, laying the damning utensil back on the counter.

 

“Erm... I... fancied a late night snack,” he said, watching Ron carefully as if searching his face for any sign of clemency.

 

Ron chuckled. “Good thing I caught you when I did, then, eh? Your mum would have had a fit if she’d seen that one of her pies went missing...”

 

He came forward and eyed the pie. Blimey, it did look good, though, all fresh and untouched, with the surface so smooth, so inviting...

 

“Reckon I’ll go and put it back on the cooling rack-”

 

“Wait!”

 

Hugo blinked back at him, still holding the pie, waiting for his cue.

 

“Oh, who’s going to miss just one pie, really?” Ron said. “Your grandmum’s bound to bring a few dozen or so, anyway.”

 

Hugo got the point immediately; he came back and laid the pie back down on the counter before Ron, who by now had summoned two forks from the utensil drawer, handing one to his son.

 

“What are you doing up, Dad?”

 

Ron thought quickly. It wasn’t easy when he was half-asleep.

 

“I was going to set out food for Father Christmas, of course,” he said, grateful he hadn’t got out the sack of presents just yet, or he’d’ve been found out for certain.

 

Hugo’s eyes went big. “Oh,” he said. “Did I eat his pie?”

 

Ron chuckled and ruffled his son’s hair good-naturedly. “Ah, he could stand to lose a few stone, couldn’t he?” He sat down beside Hugo and shoved a gigantic bite of pie into his mouth. “So,” he said, “you never answered my question.”

 

“Which question?”

 

“What you’re doing up so late. It’s after midnight.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Ron blinked. Had Hugo actually just blushed? It was awfully quick--so quick that Ron had to wonder if he’d only imagined it, but he was sure he wasn’t just imagining the fact that Hugo was now staring down at the pie, poking at the crust with his fork, as if to avoid Ron’s eyes.

 

And then, he understood. This could only be about one thing.

 

“What’s her name?”

 

Hugo slowly raised his eyes. “What?” he croaked.

 

“Her name,” Ron said, grinning. “This is about a girl, isn’t it?”

 

“Dad, I’m only eight!”

 

From the way he practically squeaked his reply, Ron could tell his son was lying.

 

“Right, what was I thinking.”

 

There was silence for a few awkward moments, then Hugo said, as if in utter awe, “How’d you know?”

 

Ron shrugged. “Oh... let’s just say I’ve got plenty of experience with this matter.”

 

He set the fork down, knowing that he’d need to focus all of his attention on his son, who was obviously in dire need of advice but wasn’t going to be asking out loud for it.

 

“All right, first things first, you ought to know one thing before you can even begin to learn about all the rest.”

 

Hugo looked terrified. Ron couldn’t really blamed him.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Women are fundamentally different creatures than men are.”

 

He saw his son swallow hard. And so began the education that no man ever looked forward to giving his male progeny.

 

* * *

 

“You two do realise you should have been asleep long before now, right?”

 

Rose flashed a smile of apology, one she’d no doubt learnt from her father at some point. Dangerous, really. Hermione could never resist the original version, and she was certainly doing no better against the facsimile.

 

“We’re sorry, Mummy,” the little girl wailed, “we were just too excited... We tried to go to sleep, honestly!”

 

“All right, I believe you,” Hermione said. “But now you really need to settle down, all right?”

 

The girls exchanged dubious looks, then turned back to Hermione with pleading eyes.

 

“We can’t,” said Lily. “Please, Aunt Hermione! Technically, it’s Christmas now anyway. It’s after midnight!”

 

“Nice try.”

 

Rose, however, seemed even more determined than her cousin to sway Hermione. “I know what’ll help!”

 

Hermione smiled. “Oh?” she said, figuring she could at least humor them by hearing out the idea. “What’s that, then?”

 

“Can you tell us a story?”

 

“A story? But that’ll take ages-”

 

“PLEASE???”

 

Hermione sighed and sat on the edge of Lily’s bed. Rose, taking that as a sign that Hermione had acquiesced, leapt out of her own bed and snuggled under the covers beside her cousin.

 

“I suppose it’s two against one, isn’t it?” Hermione said.

 

Rose nodded vigorously.

 

“All right then... Which one would you like to hear?”

 

Her daughter’s mouth suddenly curled into a mischievous grin, yet another one of Ron’s influences, and all of the sudden, Hermione got a bad feeling about this.

 

“Mummy, tell us about when you and Daddy rowed after that dance...”

 

Oh dear. It was worse than she thought.

 

“But you've heard that story a million times, darling!”

 

Now it seemed Lily had seen fit to join in the game. “But I haven’t heard it yet, Aunt Hermione!”

 

“Oh, go on, Mum,” said Rose, “it's such a funny story! Please tell it again?”

 

They weren’t going to let this go. Hermione could tell.

 

Finally, she let out a laugh. “Well,” she said, “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to tell you a _condensed_ version... You promise you’ll go straight to sleep right after?”

 

Both girls launched into furious nods. “We promise!!”

 

“Good.”

 

She scooted back further onto the bed to lean up against the wall. If she was going to tell this story, she might as well tell it properly, and that meant she’d better get comfortable, because it could take a while.

 

“Well, before I start, I suppose I should let you in on a secret now,” she said. “You’ll find out sooner or later, and I’d rather you hear it from me now so that you’re not in shock when you see it first-hand.”

Rose's eyebrows disappeared into her forehead.

 

“What, Mum?”

 

“Boys,” Hermione said. “They can be... well, a little clueless...”

 

* * *

 

“And they do this to us on purpose?”

 

Hugo was obviously fascinated by Ron’s lecture thus far, and unfortunately, more than a little apprehensive about its implications. The teenage years were perilous, Ron recalled, and he hoped he wasn’t already too late in trying to prepare his son for the scars that were surely yet to come.

 

“But I don’t understand,” Hugo said, after being silent for some time. Apparently he had been trying to process Ron’s last words in all that time. “Why can’t they just come out and say what they really mean?”

 

* * *

 

“... because they seem to have it programmed into their brains that they’ve got to act ‘cool.’”

 

Rose’s mouth formed a silent ‘o.’

 

“Was Daddy like that, Mummy?”

 

Hermione let out a laugh that was louder than she had originally intended. “Oh, Daddy was the worst offender, sweetheart!” she said. “You know, it took him _ages_ to realize I was a girl. I think he was so used to thinking of me as just one of the blokes. Like Uncle Harry. And then when he started to realise he didn’t really see me in the same way anymore, it started to scare him--which of course he tried to cover up as best he could.”

 

“Was he mean, Aunt Hermione?” Lily said.

 

“At times, yes. Abominable, even! But then at other times, he’d turn right around and be the sweetest thing on earth... I remember once when he tried to curse Malfoy after Malfoy insulted me, but your Uncle Ron got the hex instead-”

 

Rose quickly interrupted. “Mummy!! _That’s_ not the row story!”

 

“Oh... right...” Hermione felt herself blush. It didn’t seem right that the memory of this could still render her a silly, blushing schoolgirl even after all these years, but regardless, it did. “So, anyway, it seemed Daddy wanted to keep on pretending to me and to himself that he thought of me only as a friend. But after he found out I was going to the Yule Ball with someone else, it’s as if he snapped!”

 

“And he got jealous, right?”

 

“Green as a lime-flavoured Bertie Bott’s bean,” Hermione said, sighing. “But would he ever admit it? No... Can you believe he actually thought I was lying about having a partner? Even Uncle Harry could see he was jealous beyond words!”

 

Lily giggled. “Uncle Ron’s so silly...”

 

“But that’s why we love him, right?”

 

“Mum,” said Rose, “why do boys have to be so blind?”

 

Hermione thought about it for a few minutes, then she said the only thing that sprang to mind.

 

“It’s in their...”

 

* * *

 

“... genes, son.”

 

Hugo gave a shudder.

 

“Something in their DMA or whatsits-”

 

“DNA?” Hugo said.

 

“Right,” Ron said, “That. Whatever. Anyway, let me give you the perfect example of a woman at work, driving a man utterly mad. It was in our fourth year, and for some inexplicable reason, Hogwarts decided that they would...”

 

* * *

 

“... revive an old school tradition. A Yule Ball.” Hermione leaned back, feeling a silly smile form on her face from the memory. “Oh girls, it was so exciting. I never thought I’d get caught up in the whole thing, of course. I mean, I was the last one anyone would have expected to care about such a frivolous thing, but... I don't know... I think deep down I must have had this hope that Daddy would ask me to be his partner...”

 

* * *

 

“... but of course I didn’t. Bit thick of me at the time, now that I look back on it. But you have to understand, we had been only _good friends_ up until that point. The thought of possibly having feelings for your mum was... well, petrifying.”

 

“But you must have known she felt the same way, Dad!”

 

Ron choked on a laugh. “Er, no. Let’s just say your mum had done a good job of...”

 

* * *

 

“... hiding how he felt. I knew perfectly well, of course. Well, I thought I did anyway. But I have to admit, I still had my doubts from time to time.”

 

“Because he’d give you mixed signals?”

 

Hermione nearly fell off the bed from the shock of hearing those words from her almost ten year old. “Yes, Rose,” she said, amused, “because he would give me all kinds of signals, and yet they would often conflict!”

 

“So what happened at the ball, Mum?”

 

“Oh, _that_,” Hermione said. “Well, you know how I told you that all throughout the weeks leading up to it, Daddy kept trying to trick me into telling him who had asked me? He was relentless! Sneaking up on me at breakfast, at lunch, in between classes. Honestly, I think he thought that if he could just startle me enough, I’d reveal everything...”

 

* * *

 

“... but she had a will of steel, your mum. ‘Course, I don’t think she ever truly figured out what I was trying to do, anyway. I was being very subtle about it, after all. You know, in between talking about Potions or Herbology or whatnot, I’d just spring the question on her.”

 

Ron leaned in close and winked at Hugo.

 

“That’s one of those secrets of interrogation, son,” he said. “I use it all the time with dark wizards.”

 

“So how’d you feel when you saw her?”

 

“Oh, well I naturally...”

 

* * *

 

“... went insane!!”

 

Rose and Lily sniggered and exchanged looks of amusement.

 

“Really, I’m surprised they didn’t throw him out of the ball for the scene he caused.”

 

Lily’s mouth fell open. “Uncle Ron? Caused a scene??”

 

* * *

 

“The biggest one ever. Everyone on the _entire dance floor_ was staring at them. Honestly, that git had his hands all over your mum, and I was ready to strangle him, I was.”

 

“He was allowed to do that?? Really??”

 

Ron rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, apparently famous sports stars can get away with a whole lot, can’t they?”

 

“So what did you do?”

 

“Well, what else _could_ I do? I marched on over to her and...”

 

* * *

 

“... accused me of _fraternising with the enemy_!! Can you believe that? He actually had the nerve to say that I was going to cause Uncle Harry to lose the tournament because I was letting Viktor use me to get information on Uncle Harry.”

 

“Was he, Mum?”

 

Hermione let out an incredulous laugh. “Only in Daddy’s imagination, darling. And he had to ruin a perfectly lovely night I was having with a perfect gentleman.”

 

“But Daddy was only jealous, Mummy,” said Rose. “You can’t really blame him, can you?”

 

“And you’d think, wouldn’t you, that he would have admitted to me right then and there how he really felt?”

 

* * *

 

“But of course she had to _pretend_ to be all offended that I had spoilt her date. Right. Saved her from that dirty great prat is more like it. I mean, what’s a boy that age thinking, trying to get on with a girl your mum’s age?”

 

Hugo looked back at him with confusion. Oops. Perhaps it was still a few years early to be getting into _that_ yet.

 

“So how did you and Mum ever make up after a row like that?”

 

* * *

 

“Simple. We made a pact...”

 

* * *

 

“... never to speak of it ever again.”

 

“And that worked?” Hugo said with amazement.

 

* * *

 

“Well, it warded off the tension for a while, anyway. Until your dad was finally brave enough to admit how he felt.”

 

* * *

 

“Yeah, I finally got her to tell me how she felt eventually.”

 

* * *

 

 

“It was perfect after that.”

* * *

 

“It’s been quite an adventure since then.”

 

“But it’s been worth it?”

 

Ron smiled to himself. The answer was simple, really.

 

“Yeah,” he said. “Every single second.”

 

* * *

 

The bed was already warm by the time Hermione sneaked back in. She smiled, snuggling up to her husband and draping an arm across his stomach.

 

“All done?” she said.

 

He flipped over to face her, drawing her even closer to him.

 

“All done.”

 

“I had quite an interesting conversation with the girls tonight,” she said.

 

“Yeah? I had an interesting one myself with Hugo.”

 

“I told them about the Yule Ball row we had.”

 

Ron laughed. “Funny, that’s what I was telling Hugo about too.”

 

“We were so silly then, weren’t we?”

 

“Mmm. Very.”

 

“But you have to admit, it was quite fun letting those sparks fly.”

 

“Shame we were too young to do anything about it, though.”

 

Hermione giggled as she caught the predatory look on his face.

 

“Well,” she said, “we’re not too young anymore.”

 

Apparently, the comment finally convinced Ron that sleep was overrated anyway.


End file.
